


The Millers Tale

by springburn



Series: The Thick of It mini-fics [36]
Category: The Thick of It (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, F/M, Gen, Implied Sexual Assault, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-02
Updated: 2015-11-02
Packaged: 2018-04-29 14:44:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5131454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/springburn/pseuds/springburn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malcolm has been contacted by the Metropolitan Police Service.......<br/>He is unsettled and upset........</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Millers Tale

**Author's Note:**

> Chaucers The Millers Tale is kinda the Medieval version of this story, hence the title! 
> 
> This was a prompt from @petersgal (thank you as usual for the great idea!) in which she wanted to see the slimy toad Miller get his just desserts!! 
> 
> I decided to make it a bit more about Malcolm and Sam too!

THE MILLER'S TALE. 

_Sam Cassidy arrived at work that morning, early._  
_She placed two brown paper bags on Malcolm's desk, one containing a skinny muffin, and a coffee in a cardboard cup, the other a fresh fruit bowl and microwaveable porridge._  
_Malcolm was not in his office, but she could hear his dulcet tones from down the corridor, so she knew he wasn't far away._  
_Dropping down her bag, she switched on her computer and went in search of him._  
_They met as he stormed out of Dan Miller's office._  
_"Wanker! ......oh....morning Sam!"_  
_Standing back as he brushed passed, she called to his retreating back,_  
_"Breakfast on your desk Malcolm!"_  
_He raised a hand in acknowledgement as he swept away._  
_Through the partly open office door she could see Miller, as he leaned in towards Ollie Reeder._  
_'We need to drop Malcolm......"_

oOo

Opening her eyes, Sam found herself alone in the bed.  
It was four thirty.  
She discovered him downstairs, standing in front of the patio doors, wearing nothing but boxers, staring out across the moonlit garden.  
Coming behind him, she threaded her arms around his middle, he sighed, bought his hands over hers.  
"Couldn't you sleep darling?" She whispered.  
"Sometimes shit just comes back to haunt me." He murmured.  
"You're cold, Malcolm, come back to bed."  
"I had a call from the Metropolitan Police Service yesterday, Sam. Dan Miller is being investigated for sexual assault. Going back several years apparently. They want to interview me, about the years when we worked together. They're speaking to all his old colleagues, find out what they know."  
"Christ! No wonder you're awake in the early hours of the morning! Come back to bed sweetie. You can cuddle up to me and tell me all about it."  
"You're fucking wonderful, you know that? It's at times like this that I know why I married you. It's the best fucking thing I ever did."  
"Well.......I've a feeling they might need to interview me as well!" 

oOo

Malcolm was silent, over breakfast that morning.  
Brooding.  
Morose.  
"You never fucking told me.....never mentioned it."  
"Why would I Malcolm? It was part and parcel of the lad culture. It happened all the time. I was propositioned by Steve Fleming too.......I told you about that......I threatened to knee him in the bollocks!"  
"But fucking Miller! That shrivelled ballsack! In the fucking stationary cupboard!"  
"And at the Christmas party too.......he was always doing it.......admittedly the party incident was just him being handsy.....and he was drunk......but the cupboard, well.....I was actually scared, but I told him to fuck the hell off me or I'd scream my lungs out.....he got the message!"  
"FUCKING FUCK ME!"  
"Malcolm, don't get upset.....it didn't scar me for life or anything, he just tried to corner me....I told him where to go.....end of."  
"Do you know what? He asked me about you once...... I'd forgotten.....but you saying that has just bought it back to my mind."  
"What did he say?"  
"He asked me if you had a boyfriend.....and whether I thought he could get in there.....I told him to leave you the hell alone, and if he messed with my PA, I'd eviscerate him.....with a spoon!"  
Sam laughed.  
"Shame you weren't around for the cupboard incident then!"  
"I bloody wish I had been! If I'd known what he was up to......"  
"I can think of half a dozen secretaries and PA's who had problems with him Malcolm......and the one that springs to mind most is Fiona......remember her?"  
"Fiona? Fiona?......blonde? little?"  
"Yeah, that's her. I came in one morning......later than usual, for me......she'd got in early, because there was an Ambassadorial visit coming up, so she needed to prepare.......she was sitting at her desk crying, and her blouse was missing a button, she asked me if I had a safety pin."  
"Shit! Did she tell you why?"  
"No! She wouldn't say a word, but Miller was the only other person in at the time, and he was very sheepish all that day. A week later, she was transferred.....it was a real surprise, because she was one of the best, and suddenly, there she was, gone!"  
"Fucking hell, Sam! How was I not aware of this?"  
"Well, you were busy running the country in Tom's name Malcolm.....you can't see everything!"  
"I should have fucking known.....it was my job to know.......fuck it all!"  
She passed him the coffee pot and he poured absentmindedly.  
"Anyway......what's bought this to the fore? Why is he being investigated now?"  
"Because apparently a girl in the chambers has made an official complaint against him, and it's bought a load more women out of the woodwork, with similar stories, going way back. So they've been forced to do something."  
"You should talk to Glenn, Malcolm......because I remember him comforting Helen Hatley, after the Leadership election bash......I think he tried it on with her too."  
"Christ on a bendy bus, Sam! Was no one immune? I actually thought the slimy little fucker was gay, until he asked me about you that day!"  
"Honestly Malcolm. I don't think he's fussed, either way."  
"You mean he bats for both sides? For fucks sake! "

oOo

Seated in a quiet corner of the coffee shop the following day, Malcolm glowered as he and Glenn sat at the table opposite each other.  
Speaking in hushed whispers.  
"It's good of you to meet me at such short notice."  
"Not a problem Malc, you were vague on the phone, what's all this about Miller?"  
"Glenn.....tell me about Helen Hatley.......and the post leadership election party."  
"Bloody hell! What do you want to know about all that for?"  
"Because the Police have been in touch with me over Miller's antics, he's being investigated for assault, and Sam mentioned to me that you might know something."  
"Well, not a great deal about that day really......she was upset at the time.......he tried to put his hand up her skirt apparently. I comforted her, went and told him he was a complete bastard......you know the sort of thing."  
"She didn't complain about him then? Officially, I mean?"  
"No. He apologised, grovelled, said it was a huge mistake, he thought she was coming on to him, misunderstanding, please forgive me.....blah blah blah. So she dropped it."  
Malcolm scowled.  
"I always knew he was a slimeball but this is ridiculous!"  
"Oh, I think you'll find there's more to it than that Malcolm.....he was into a load of weird shit, from what I've heard."  
Taking a sip from his cappuccino Malcolm raised his eyebrows, sitting back in his chair with a deep sigh.  
"I'm not even sure I want to hear this......go on then......enlighten me....."  
"Christ, Malcolm, there were rumours flying all over the place......and bearing in mind his position, he had to be extremely careful. It was, fairly well known that he had several gay liaisons when he was Up at Oxford. Your predecessor kept at least one story out of the papers, when he was rising through the ranks, moving up from the back benches.....apparently there was a photo of him in a bondage harness, with a collar round his neck, with his Dom.......at some sleazy club or other.....I don't know the full details, but it was quashed......."  
"Fucking hell, Glenn! Mind you there's no law against any of that though!"  
"Of course not.....but he needed it kept quiet.......can't have stories like that circulating if you're going for the top jobs........but then I think his tastes widened. His driver was very discreet, but he used to slip his protection officers, meet up with a high class escort.......somewhere in a hotel in the West End......must have been really careful, can't have been easy to do that without it getting out."  
"How the fuck did he keep it out of the public domain? I can't believe it. And how did YOU know about all this and I didn't?"  
"I only found out by accident. You remember Jonathan Makepiece?"  
"Yours and Hugh's old school chum?"  
"Yeah......we came up through The Service together......well, he used to play squash with Miller."  
"So?"  
"Showers, Malcolm! Showers!"  
"Sorry?"  
"Are you dense? Undressing in front of each other! The Mistress had him in a cock cage. Locked up! For weeks sometimes......all part of the games they played."  
"Fucking fuck me!"  
"Point was, I think that was part of his problem.....I think it fuelled it......Jonty told me....on the QT......she kept him permanently gagging for it.....couldn't leave women alone......or anyone really!"  
"But presumably the little cunt was paying this floozie to keep him locked?"  
"Well, yeah......I guess he was, but hey.....sometimes, I think he couldn't control himself.......and any woman who happened to be in the vicinity.......well......you know......"  
"Yeah....I know only too fucking well.....Sam was one of his victims....."  
"Oh Christ! Really?"  
"Yeah. Cornered in the fucking stationary cupboard......grimy little twerp."  
"What happened?"  
"Nothing.....she threatened to yell blue murder and he backed off."  
"I'll have to go to the police.....tell them what I know......bloody hell Malcolm, this could be curtains for Miller. He'll be finished, even if he's not convicted, it'll be difficult for him......no smoke without fire, that's what people will think."  
"I don't suppose you know what happened to Fiona do you? Used to work in the back office at Number Ten?"  
"No idea. Shouldn't be too difficult to find her though, she'll have asked for references when she left. All record of past civil service employees are kept."  
"Fuck......it's gonna go to trial....I'll be willing to bet anything. You, me, Sam.....we'll probably all be called. Fucking little wank stain. Just as I was enjoying the quiet life again. But I guess it's one persons word against another, he could just as easily get off.....you know what a smarmy little bastard he is!"

 

oOo

_"EX LEADER OF THE OPPOSITION JAILED._

_Miller gets two years._

_The trial of Daniel Quentin Miller ended today. Miller, now a back bench MP starts a two year jail sentence today, having been convicted of sex offences........"_

Malcolm was besieged by press as they emerged from the court. Pushing and shoving and trying to jostle each other to get a recorder near enough to his face.  
"Mr Tucker.....what do you have to say? Give us a statement Mr Tucker!"  
"No comment. I have no comment."  
With a protective arm around his wife, Malcolm made his way to the waiting car.  
As they sped away, he let out a huge sigh of relief and clutched Sam's hand. 

oOo

His suitcase thrown unceremoniously on the bed, items of clothing spilling out of it like the entrails of road kill.  
Sam watched, partly amused, as he donned swimming trunks, hopping on one foot as he tried to hurriedly pull them up.  
Rushing straight downstairs, across the tiled living area, out onto the verandah and leapt straight into the pool. Fingers gripping his nose.  
He stayed under for some time, for one tiny moment Sam was concerned that he might not surface at all.  
Bearing in mind he'd only learned to swim the year before!  
He rose from the depths like a salmon, shaking the water from his head and blowing out a stream, like a breaching whale.  
Then swam a few metres breaststroke before folding at the waist, dipping under again and gliding along the bottom.  
Satisfied he wouldn't drown, Sam turned back into the house to finish her unpacking. 

Italy.  
The little villa they'd taken before.  
To escape the madness.  
A bolt hole.  
The children were safely ensconced with Paul and Tina Cassidy, Sam's brother and sister in law. 

Malcolm had done once more what Malcolm seemed to require to do, when it all closed in on him.  
He'd run away.  
When events chased him, and his old life came back to unsettle and rattle him.  
Having stashed the rest of their clothes, Sam returned to the paved garden area outside.  
He was seated at the poolside, legs dangling in the water, kicking his feet.  
Lost in thought.  
"Malcolm! Sweetie.....you'll get burnt sitting there......put some sun cream on!"  
He made no acknowledgment of having heard, but swung his feet round, wrapped himself in a towel and made his way to the verandah to sit in the shade. 

It was now late afternoon, Sam was pottering.  
Preparing salad, marinating a couple of steaks.  
Through the window she could see him.  
Standing, at the bottom of the garden area, amongst the cypress trees.  
Watching the sky change colour as the sun began to wane.  
Leaving her culinary tasks, she walked down and stood beside him, linking her arm through his.  
"Feeling any better?"  
He turned, and looked down at her. His eyes were moist.  
"Fuck it all, Sam. I wish they'd all just fucking leave us alone. I'm sick of the past coming back to bite me on the arse. Every fucking time!"  
"Shit happens, Malc. There's not much we can do about it."  
She looked fondly at her man.  
Hers, he was all hers.  
He was thin again.  
The little belly he'd acquired over the past year or so had melted away over the past weeks as the trial progressed.  
He now resembled a whippet. As when she'd first known him.  
Wired, tightly wound, not eating properly.  
Awake half the night.  
Whenever something like this happened, he seemed to instantly revert to the old Malcolm.  
The Malcolm who needed control, the Malcolm who lashed out, who was insecure, full of false confidence, swagger.  
An act.  
Sam knew, and she knew what he needed.  
To recharge the batteries, rediscover his equilibrium.  
Feel safe and unthreatened.  
Know that he was loved. 

"Malcolm? Come inside.....I need you for something."  
She led him, and he followed meekly.  
His eyes large and filled with sadness, guided by the hand.  
A mute questioning, an unspoken query.  
His forehead furrowed with anxiety, a slight huff coming from him, as if attempting to rid himself of the chronic tension and stress that beset him, at times such as these.  
Once inside the living room, she moved in front of him, unbuttoning his shirt and pushing it back off his shoulders and down his arms.  
"Sit. Malcolm." She whispered, gently.  
He obeyed, bending his knees, stiff, his back a rigid pole.  
Her hands moved across from his neck, working outwards.  
"You're so tense, Malcolm, like a bowstring. Relax, take some deep breaths, close your eyes."  
Reaching her arms around his neck, she bought her lips to his.  
"Let's continue this upstairs." She murmured. 

Laying him back, she stroked and caressed him.  
His eyes tightly shut, chest rising and falling more and more rapidly as his body responded to the contact.  
Easing down his underpants, exposing him, the lightest of touches, the thrill that ran through his body.  
He came apart under her hands.  
Whimpering, eager for more, his passion deepening, lips parted, brow creased in concentration. 

They made love, not urgently and with lust but slowly and gently with warmth and tenderness.  
The joining of two people wholly in love, completely wrapped up in each other, so totally as one, that at that moment absolutely nothing else mattered.  
Emotion welled up in Malcolm, he could not hold it back.  
"Sam! Oh Sam......I need you. I need you so badly. I want you so desperately. I can't......I can't...."  
His words punctuating each thrust as he moved inside her, the sensual sensation of skin on skin.  
"I need you too my Malcolm, no one knows me like you do. You are my everything."  
"Can't last! Sam........I'm gonna come! Gonna come so fucking hard.......FUCK!"  
"Come then, Malcolm, come for me. God! I love you!"  
He spilled himself inside her, as she rippled around him, milking him, drawing the very life force from him. He cried out, his head falling forwards against her, then groaned, utterly spent, breathing close to her ear.  
His pulsing forceful, then easing down, and finally ceasing, as she held him in a tight embrace, her hand stroking his hair, hushing him, kissing him, and lulling him gradually and inexorably into a restful sleep.

oOo

It took him a couple more days.  
Assuaged. Tranquillised.  
The vein in his temple ceasing to throb.  
Jaw muscle slack.  
His anger with the world in general diminished.  
Shoulders not hunched.  
Head no longer bowed.  
Sunshine, good food, wine, laughter returning.  
A walk or a swim, a nap taken together, followed by the tender sweetness of love.  
Rejuvenated, her Malcolm again.  
With Sam's ever calm and serene demeanour, soothing the fevered brow, ministering to the frustration, chasing away the haunting memories, the bad dreams, he was pacified, mollified.  
Healing balm.  
On the fourth morning, he was seated on the porch, with a coffee, shading his eyes against the suns glare.  
She stood behind him, her arms draped around his throat, cheek to cheek.  
Nuzzling into him, savouring his scent.  
"You okay, Malc?"  
"It's time to go home, Sam.......I miss my kids!"


End file.
